


expressive eyebrows speak louder

by part_timeslayer



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/part_timeslayer/pseuds/part_timeslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Root didn't say a word, and Shaw didn't need them to understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	expressive eyebrows speak louder

I.

Shaw glanced up at the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut. She took her hand off her gun and relaxed when she saw Reese limping in, closely followed by Carter.

She nodded at them casually from where she was sitting on the coffee table, not making any attempt to hide the person she was sitting in front of, though with Carter around she was suddenly struck by the temptation to do so. Not that she really could, as she was right in the center of the safe house, by the couch where she'd haphazardly tossed Root.

(Well, okay, not as haphazardly as she'd like, but it wasn't like she'd been gentle, and that's what really matters.)

Harold made a sound of relief from where he'd been passive-aggressively ignoring her for the past fifteen minutes doing whatever he does on his computer. Apparently he was disappointed in her for working with Root, even though she'd brought Root with her when she was done, and it was what his machine wanted. The one that they listened to on a daily basis.

To Shaw it had basically just been another Number, honestly a little funner than normal, but the same overall. It seemed that Harold had seen things a bit differently, for some reason. She probably shouldn't be surprised, Harold had a way of going from seeing The Machine as his child to an Evil ASI that would destroy them all at the slightest provocation, on a dime.

"Tell me that is not who I think it is."

"I'm afraid I can't, Detective Carter. Ms. Shaw has seen fit to ally herself Ms. Groves. After Ms. Groves abducted her."

"I didn't 'ally' myself with her. There was a job to do, and she recruited me. With force. Then I punched her in the face, and now she's your hostage. Your welcome."

"You'll have to excuse my lack of enthusiasm. I didn't anticipate being brought the woman who kidnapped me, or my employee working with her." Harold murmured looking at her in disbelief, as though he was being reasonable, instead of very rudely snubbing her catch.

Shaw raised her eyebrows in warning.

"Shaw probably didn't mean to get abducted by the bad woman, Finch, we should cut her a little slack." Reese interjected, not seeming sure whether he was more upset about Root's presence or amused at Shaw's scolding and unfortunate experience.

"Isn't it good that we have her and she isn't out in the world doing whatever terrible things Root does?" Shaw asked.

She'd thought that not letting the attractive villain get away was part of the do gooder thing that she was doing now. Harold was really killing her 'perfectly completed job' buzz.

Harold sighed, but nodded grudgingly.

"Or, instead of expecting me to just let you guys hold people hostage, you could just step aside while I arrest her." Carter said, stepping forward.

She raised her eyebrows in (not quite) disbelief when John stepped partially in front of her. Not touching, keeping a respectful distance, but still providing his large frame as a barrier.

"For what? What can you prove that she has done? I don't see anyway that you can ensure that Ms. Groves won't be back out and murdering anyone who get's in her way by tomorrow evening, and how is that morally superior to just letting us keep an eye on her?" Harold asked.

There was enough condescension in his voice to irritate even Shaw despite not being at the receiving end of the tone for once, and actually agreeing with what he was saying.

"The fact that it's the law." Carter answered seriously.

"Yes, because you've never bent the law in order to do what's right."

"This is different. How are you gonna tell me that you are more equipped to hold her than a prison is?"

"Well considering that, as I already said, the prison won't hold her, quite a bit more."

Shaw grew bored watching the back and forth argument that was going nowhere, and glanced at the prone body of Root limply spread across the couch, her boots stretched across the armrest due to her absurdly long legs.

She was about to walk away to find something to do when she heard something move, and noticed Root's fingers twitched lightly, her shoulders tensed, and her lips quirk just slightly downward when Finch started talking about locking her up in their headquarters.

"Well, I think that Root would rather go to prison than the-where we work."

"How do you know?" Reese asked.

"One, it's logical as even if Carter could get her for something prison wouldn't hold her for long. Two, she said so."

"The two of you discussed that while you were Groves' captive slash partner? How close exactly did you two get?" Carter asked dubiously.

"No, we didn't talk about it. We only really talked about the mission. And Buffy. But that's not important, well in regards to this conversation anyway." Shaw said, choosing to focus on a favorite show rather than the 'how close did you two get' thing.

"Then when did she tell you? Surely not when you first met." Harold inquired, looking as though there was some significance about Root being willing to tell her that she didn't want to be in The Library.

Shaw was admittedly starting to get a little curious about what ever was going on with the computer nerds, but decided against interrogating Finch over it. He had that shifty look that meant that he was about as likely to tell her as Reese was to dress casually. She'd just look into it herself, she'd find out eventually.

"Just now. She's awake." Shaw answered with a shrug.

Root dropped the act and frowned at her in exasperation. She kicked her foot against the end of the couch, shoving herself up so that she wasn't laying down anymore as best as she could with her hands cuffed.

Finch did not look happy.

Though whether that was because Root was conscious or that you could clearly hear the fabric of the couch straining (possibly already torn), Shaw wasn't completely certain.

Shaw smirked slightly at the bruise on Root's jaw and her petulant expression.

"As if you didn't deserve it." Shaw scoffed.

Root simply raised an eyebrow and Shaw had a pretty good idea what had her all amused.

"Just because I didn't entirely hate every second of it, the spaghetti blowtorch, infiltrating the CIA, shooting people, outmaneuvering Vigilance, doesn't mean I was thrilled with the company. Or being tazed. Again." Shaw held in a sigh as she saw Root looking up at her, smiling almost nostalgically when reminded of the abductions.

"Not cool."

Root's head tilted.

"Yes, seriously." Shaw lied.

Not wanting Root to know how impressed she was with her getting the jump on her. If it was anyone else she'd probably be more open to showing a little grudging admiration, but as it was Root was already enough of an obnoxious, smug, narcissist, without Shaw adding to it.

She studied Root for a moment, trying not to focus too much on any one feature, least Root get the wrong idea. Well, not wrong exactly to be completely honest, but not something she ever intended on addressing, or indulging...again. So it was pretty much the same thing.

"Shaw?" Reese was looking moderately disturbed, Shaw noted in confusion, and looked at Finch and Carter for an explanation.

Which was useless, as they both had nearly identical expressions to Reese's. Shaw looked at Root, who shrugged, but seemed to be in on some really amusing joke.

"You're not half as funny as you think you are."

Which was responded with a scrunched nose, big eyes, and a head shake.

A cutting reply was on the tip of her tongue when she was interrupted by Carter.

"As much fun as watching this one sided conversation is, we still haven't agreed on what to do with Groves."

Shaw blinked in surprise, wondering what one sided conversation Carter was referring to. She noticed that Root had flinched as though slapped at the sound of her name, but Root didn't say anything about it. She looked drained suddenly, and seemed to know that nothing she said was going to have an affect she wanted on the situation.

"If it doesn't work out I promise you, Detective, that I will tell you and together we'll find some way to put her into your custody and kept there. But I truly believe it's best that she stays where I can keep an eye on her. Trust me, I wouldn't willingly ask to spend so much time with my abductor if I had any other choice." Finch said steadily.

His muscles were tense, he was glancing at Root and away again repeatedly. He didn't seem certain whether he wanted to completely ignore the fact that Root was even in the room, or if he wanted to keep his eyes on her every move.

Carter sighed, but nodded after a moments deliberation.

"Well, I should go help Fusco with the reports. I know you lot don't have to do much paperwork, but a little consideration for the people who have to deal with the mess you leave would be nice. I don't even know how we're going to explain what happened tonight."

"I'm sure you'll think of something, we've given you plenty of practice." Reese responded with an innocent tone and a guilty smile.

Carter didn't respond beyond giving an eye roll and one last suspicious glance at Root as she walked out the door.

"Mr. Reese." Finch nodded to him, and Reese seemed to get some message that Shaw hadn't, and nodded back.

He stepped forward with precision, and stabbed Root in the side of the neck with a needle before Shaw had registered Reese as a threat. Root was already rapidly loosing consciousness again (and looking non too pleased about it).

"What was that about? Doesn't Root already know where The Library is?"

"I'm sure she does, that isn't the issue. I've already decided that the only way to prevent Ms. Groves from finding a way to get into contact with The Machine, even under our watch, is to construct a Faraday cage. I'll need time to build it. Her being unconscious until it's completed would be the wisest course of action, I believe." Finch answered.

Shaw looked at Root.

There was something unpleasant about seeing her rendered helpless by someone else, it was different when she'd been the one to knock her out. She thought over what Finch had said though, and agreed with his assessment. The logic of it Shaw could understand, and made it easy to shrug off her mild displeasure.

"Need any help making it?"

* * *

 II.

"Root, stop it."

"I mean it."

"There's a million books to read, why don't you learn something instead of staring at me like a creep?"

"Fine. I see you point, I'd probably get bored of them too if I was locked in a cage with them."

"But that doesn't mean you can keep bugging me, Root, just because you got yourself locked up."

"Haha, yeah, I know it was my fault too."

"Ms. Shaw, can you please stop taunting Ms. Groves, I'm trying to work." Finch interceded.

"I'm not taunting her. _She_ was taunting _me_." Shaw argued calmly, looking over at Root for support.

Root nodded shamelessly in agreement.

"See." Shaw said, as though that settled it.

Finch frowned slowly from one of the women to the other, grabbed the books he needed, and limped away without comment.

"You're right, he still doesn't like you. In all fairness though, you are pretty annoying. And you abducted him."

"Yeah, I know I got over it, mostly, but other people are more...sensitive to that kind of thing. You have to respect that."

"Ms. Shaw, John requires some assistance, if you could tear yourself away from the hostage so that he doesn't die, that would be most appreciated."

Shaw rolled her eyes and walked away without further remark.

She was aware that Root was watching her with disappointment as her only source of amusement and conversation nowadays left to actually have an adventure. Something she'd been denied for long enough that it was obvious to anyone that she was starting to get cabin fever. Shaw wondered how long they had before Root made her escape.

* * *

III.

Shaw stepped towards Root as Finch led the way to the car.

"Look, I know you've probably got a lot to say, and a lot of trouble to make, now that you're out of your cage, but don't. Carter is gone, and Reese, well the whole reason that we let you out is because Reese is out of control. Finch doesn't need drama with you on top of it." Shaw said quietly, her voice more strained than she'd like to admit.

Carter was a good person, exceptional, and she didn't deserve being murdered. Shaw was used to death, she saw people die everyday, even people she liked sometimes. It had rarely felt like this when it happened.

But there was no reason that Root needed to know how...affected she was. Let her think it was all about Finch, looking out for him, at least that wasn't completely a lie. She didn't want to think about how he'd react if they lost Reese too. She wasn't sure how she'd react either.

Root nodded with more understanding than Shaw had anticipated, or to be honest, felt comfortable with.

At least she hadn't made some glib, cruel, remark about Carter. Shaw was grateful for that. That Root had some level decency, or possibly self preservation. It was pretty clear that Root didn't particularly care that Carter had died, and really why would she, she didn't know Carter. Shaw couldn't really blame her for not feeling anything, that would probably be a little hypocritical.

But there was something about the tightness of Root's jaw, about the way that she was looking from her to Finch with her big brown puppy-dog eyes, that reassured Shaw that even if Root did something Rootish, that she'd keep her end of the deal first. She'd help them get Reese back, and she wouldn't say anything about Carter that would force Shaw to shoot her. She figured that that was probably as much as was fair to ask for. 

Shaw reached the car first, taking the drivers seat of course. She mock glared at Root as she heard chuckling from the backseat when she shifted her seat up as far as it would go so she could reach the pedals. She really hoped this truce worked out. Finch would never let her hear the end of it if it didn't. 

* * *

 IV. 

"You know, Finch is going to kill me, well, tell Reese to kill me (try to kill me anyway, because let's be real Reese is good but he's not that good), if he finds out that I saw you and didn't tell him, right?"

Root didn't stop smiling, head tilted to the side in a way that signified that she was listening to The Machine.

Shaw rolled her eyes, and frowned at the couple holding hands in front of them. It wasn't that she had too much of a problem with people being affectionate in her presence as it was that they kept looking at her and Root with all this solidarity. They seemed to think that just because they were the only other couple that were two women that it automatically made them friends. 

They were at some charity event thing to keep an eye on some Senator, Shaw was Root's 'date.' Shaw was about seventy-five percent certain that Root had made up the whole 'I need your help, Sameen' thing and this was just an excuse to spend time together. Obviously she'd been quick to inform Root that the only reason she bothered coming along was in case things actually got interesting (for some reason Numbers with Senators involved usually ended in explosions).

Shaw tried not to think too much about the arm wrapped gently around her waist, and would have blatantly denied returning the favor even if she was confronted with photographic evidence of her right arm slung stiffly around Root. Root was staring at her, looking like there were very few places she would rather be, just as she had been doing for the entire evening. Shaw had decided not to say anything about it though, she was just glad that Root hadn't tried to talk about what Shaw could clearly see in her eyes. 

Root stopped suddenly. Her smile didn't drop, but it changed to something a lot more cutting and dangerous than the love-struck dork look she got when looking at Shaw and listening to The Machine.

She pulled Shaw in closer, and guided her firmly into an 'employees only' area just in time to hear gunshots coming from straight ahead. A lot of gunshots.

Okay, make that fifty percent certain.

* * *

V.

Shaw leaned back on the bench of the subway station, Bear at her side, a sandwich in her hand, and wrist zip tied to the bench. Someone would almost think that things were normal, if they overlooked that last part.

And maybe if they overlooked the weight she'd lost, how tired she was, her new scars. Maybe they'd think that everything was exactly as it had been months ago. That the world wasn't coming down around them, that Shaw hadn't barely gotten away from Samaritan, that she'd never been taken by them in the first place.

If someone overlooked the mistrust in Reese's eyes, the pain, nothing at all like the camaraderie they'd had before. The sibling-like bickering and support bubbling underneath the surface, but completely unreachable.

If they overlooked the way that Finch wouldn't stray within arms reach of her, if they ignored the words he muttered 'chip implanted' 'no idea what affect it'd have on her brain' 'not to be trusted, yet.'

If someone overlooked the grimness in Fusco's eyes (which why was he even down here? When did they tell him where they worked? Of course the answer to that was obvious. It was while she was...away, as they'd taken to calling it).

If they overlooked the intrigue and suspicion that the New Girl, (apparently called Harper Rose), treated her with. She could see that they'd told her a little about her. Harper was curious, but she also seemed to have a very strong sense of self-preservation, and none of the emotional baggage that the others did when it came to someone who could potentially, possibly unwillingly, be a spy for Samaritan.

And Someone did.

Root, the bringer of her current sandwich, was happier than Shaw had ever seen her.

Munching away at her own meal, making a mess of it really, what with all the grinning she was doing, and sitting on the concrete floor between Shaw's legs. She hadn't even seemed to consider shooing Bear away to take his spot, where he was comfortably stretched out across the majority of the bench, his head resting on Shaw's thigh. Right next Root's actually.

She hadn't seem to notice or care that she was the only one so incredibly enthused. Root had looked at Finch like he was being puzzling and absurd when he had argued against sitting so close to her. When she'd made herself so vulnerable. Shaw agreed with him, it was smarter, more logical, to keep a certain level distance and awareness around her in the state that she was. Shaw wasn't entirely sure what Samaritan had done to her when they'd had her, and she didn't like risking Root. Root was being reckless. But for some reason she just couldn't get the words out.

Not when Root believed so strongly that Shaw was back and whole. Not now that she and Finch were so close to fixing the The Machine. That Root believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that things were going to get better. Shaw couldn't take that faith away from her.

Not when Root was smiling like that.

Shaw just hoped that Root was the one who was right. And really how much of a long-shot was that when Root was never wrong? As annoying as that was sometimes.


End file.
